sandwich haven
by hookingtheswan
Summary: She'd be lying if she said this unhurried kiss wasn't turning her legs into mush. Either that, or the after-effects of her jog had suddenly decided to kick in. [bechloe/for the amazing Plush Panda]


**.: sandwich haven :.**

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_my present for Plush Panda_

_also my first time of writing any kind of smut, ever; you've been warned_

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Her breath came out in hard gasps and her body was slick with sweat. She could feel it pooling in the small of her back and felt exhilarated. Beca's eyes flickered to the asphalt disappearing beneath her feet, and as she turned up their street, the corners of her mouth in turn turned up into a smirk as her finish line came into view.

Nothing could beat a workout on autumn afternoons, when the temperature was just right, most people were indoors enjoying their dinners after a long day's work, and the streets were left silent and deserted, just as Beca liked it. Yet her stomach growled at the thought of food. _God, dinner_, she thought as she pounded the last yards of pavement. _I wonder if Chloe's got something on the stove_.

Nearing the steps that led up to their apartment building, she slowed her pace until she was jogging leisurely in one place. She looked up at the smudged windows, and this time, she grinned.

It had taken quite some time for Chloe and her to find an apartment that met all of their requirements; not only had they been looking for one that featured two bedrooms—seeing as those few Barden Bellas who hadn't moved to Europe or wherever after graduation liked to throw sleep-over parties from time to time—they'd also wanted it to be relatively close to their respective work places. Beca had become somewhat of a regular at several New York dance clubs, where she jockeyed her discs every other night, while Chloe had landed a job as a vocal teacher at two high schools.

And it had to be cheap, of course, because money was ever in short supply, which was basically why they'd ended up on the fourth floor of a Brooklyn Chinatown apartment building, right over a small Asian supermarket that sold questionable plastic animal pets, in all shapes and sizes.

_Still, not a bad place to settle_, Beca thought. Because whereas money was always in short supply, in Chinatown food was plentiful and perpetually orgasmic.

They'd moved in only last week and the place already felt like home.

When she opened the door to their apartment, she was immediately assaulted by the sounds of a blaring stereo and the scent of Chloe's home-made cooking. The words 'well' and 'fuck' shot through her mind, as she promptly decided to forego stretching and showering—knowing she'd regret it tomorrow—instead planning to gobble down all her girlfriend would put forward.

Her girlfriend.

She considered the concept. Beca still felt her stomach jump every time she thought of Chloe as her girlfriend. Five years ago she'd have never even imagined herself in a relationship, let alone with someone as exhibitionistic as Chloe.

She snorted, thinking back on their second meeting. The woman was crazy, that was for sure.

Still—though Beca was still very much aware of the boundaries of her personal bubble—she was definitely able to appreciate Chloe's exquisite body a bit more these days. Thank the gods.

Kicking off her shoes, she padded towards her left and draped her still damp arms over the island that separated the kitchen from the living area, hopping onto one of the weathered bar stools they'd got from a second hand shop around the corner.

Beca noticed that her breathing was still quite uneven from her run—and seeing Chloe donned in an apron that was barely an inch longer than her tight navy skirt didn't prove to be any help either.

"I thought I'd heard you come in," Chloe half-shouted over the music, flashing Beca an enthusiastic grin. She sauntered over to her and reached to turn off the radio before leaning over and pulling Beca in for a lingering kiss. "Hmmm," she hummed, "welcome back." She smacked her lips. "I've made us linguini."

"Did you now?"

Beca eyed the spatula in Chloe's hand, from which—indeed—a linguini was dangling precariously. But Chloe swiftly moved her hand out of reach as Beca made a grab for it across the counter.

"Hey, now," she said, looking from Beca to the spatula and back. "What happened during your run, exactly?"

Beca didn't falter. "Food deprivation. Feed meee."

Chloe laughed. "In a minute. By the way," she continued, returning to the stove and lowering the heat, "Aubrey called while you were out."

Beca propped her head on her hands and blew at a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. "What about?"

"Apparently," Chloe drew out the word, all the while focussing on draining the pasta and dropping it unceremoniously into a bowl, "she went on a date yesterday. With a guy named," she paused her motions as if to rack her brain, "Pedro," she decided, and waved her hand a bit.

"Did she now?" Beca sat up, interested.

"She did." Chloe nodded. "And there's more. She's going on another one tonight, and _apparently_, he's Italian. And a Leo."

Beca smirked. "Like me."

"Well, you're not Italian, but yeah, like you."

"Then she's certainly in for a treat," Beca said with a roll of her eyes. "What was her policy on dating and sex again?"

"No action until the sixth one." Chloe paused as Bella snorted. "But after what I told her, I think she's bringing it down to two, three at the most."

Beca started. "What _did_ you tell her?" But her reaction was half-hearted. Chloe had just put the bowl of pasta, which was now topped with a spinach-mutton cheese sauce, within arm's reach.

What? It was distracting.

Beca considered foregoing cutlery.

"I simply told her that you, as a leo, have taught me a few… interesting things. Nothing about how you pressed me up against the wall last week and—ah, there you are," she said, watching Beca's eyes widen as she refocused on what was being said.

Because, sure, Beca had become more comfortable with nakedness. Nakedness with Chloe. Nakedness with Chloe on any flat surface, horizontal _or_ vertical. Anywhere in their new apartment. But that didn't mean Chloe could go boasting about it to their friends. Not even when it was Aubrey, who, admittedly, did need some stimulation to do the deed more often.

_Wait, what?_

"Anyway," Chloe interrupted Beca's train of thought, again, "I think she took my advice to heart."

After Chloe had produced the necessary utensils, Beca royally dished up their plates, then topped them off with a handful of pine nuts.

As they ate—Beca almost died of bliss when her tonsils basically absorbed the tastes—they discussed tactics for hearing out Aubrey tomorrow morning, as well as their own plans for tonight. They still needed to unpack a large share of their belongings, almost all of which stood stacked in boxes in the living room.

"Maybe we can grab the ten o'clock movie," Beca suggested as she piled their now empty plates into the dishwasher. She looked back over her shoulder to gauge Chloe's reaction. The woman, who stood near the refrigerator, shrugged and studied her nails. "We could," she consented.

"Or?" Beca prompted, figuring Chloe had something else in mind entirely.

"Or we could stay in, be lazy, eat tons of cookie sandwiches, and…" Chloe trailed her index finger across the counter surface and eyed Beca's bent-over body, "you know, christen our new sofa."

Beca straightened up slowly, deliberately, wiping her moist hand on her thighs. Expertly closing the dishwasher with her leg and hip, she turned around and leaned against it.

"We could," she started, crossing her arms over her chest, "but you know as well as I do that we can't."

Chloe looked up and frowned. "Why not? I mean, you're still waiting for a call from that one disco place, right? They could well contact you tonight, and though I'd hate for them to break up our… dessert, you would be better—"

"Chloe," Beca interrupted. "I'm not talking about christening the sofa, though I prefer the term inaugurate." She smirked and pushed herself off of the counter. "I'm talking about how we can't possibly eat tons of cookie sandwiches. It would completely surpass their purpose."

Beca crossed the remaining distance between her and Chloe, planting one hand on the smooth plastic surface of the fridge and the other on the counter, closing her in. She raised her eyes slowly to Chloe's.

"Because, as you know, those Ben & Jerry's need to be savoured," she licked her lips, "one," and leaned in closer, "by one," and closer, "by one."

Chloe's eyes fluttered closed as Beca's lips hovered over hers, breath fanning across her mouth. She started leaning forward, but her expectation was met with a whoosh of air as Beca turned, laughed, and opened the fridge to take out their dessert.

"So, why waste time?"

"Damn it, Beca!" Chloe exclaimed. "Mean!"

Beca chortled. "Oh, you know you like it. Now savour," she tossed Chloe a sandwich, "and savour it whole. The cookie to ice-cream ratio is _everything_."

"You and your stupid ratio," Chloe muttered, but she was grinning. She untied her apron and pulled it over her head, just as Beca tore the wrapper off of her sandwich, wasting no time to sink her teeth into her second near-death experience this evening.

_Death is good. Death is—_

"If you keep moaning like that, I might ravish you instead of the cookie."

Beca looked up, already busy licking up the remaining crumbs and ice-cream stuck to the inside of the wrapper. She hummed; blinked.

But Chloe had other plans. Because—frankly—Beca was still within arms' reach, and—frankly—Chloe didn't think she needed the extra calories anyway. She'd rather get a head start and burn them off pre-emptively.

The apron she'd pushed onto the counter, slid into the dirty sink, but she didn't notice. Reaching out, Chloe hooked her fingers into the waistband of the other girls' track pants and pulled her flush against her, eliciting a smothered "whoop".

"Though I like this particular predatory approach, Chloe," Beca started, "shouldn't we—"

But her teasing was silenced by the paradox of a soft mouth being pressed roughly to hers, and she sucked in a breath. Chloe grunted at Beca's numbing cold skin and didn't hesitate to push her tongue past parted lips, savouring the taste of ice-cream and chocolate and cookie dough.

Chloe slid her left arm around Beca's back, while her right hand snuck into her hair, loosening the band she used to tie it into a pony tail, and made the strands cascade down her back.

This seemed to kick Beca into gear. Her back straightened and as a result her body was pressed even more into Chloe's.

Her sports bra created a friction that did strange things to Beca's mind.

This. She would never grow tired of this.

Sure, when they'd started out, Beca had been awkward and—dare she say it—_meepy_. Okay, was that even a word? Basically, it had meant that Beca ran away from whatever plans Chloe'd had for her.

But hot damn, once she'd opened up a little more.

Nope, Beca wouldn't miss this for the world.

They had shared many different kinds of kisses, but this one was slow, almost languid, and open-mouthed. Beca's mouth moved purposefully against Chloe's, and she stood on her toes to better the angle. Her fingers were gripping the edge of the counter on either side of Chloe's waist to make sure she didn't fall.

Because she'd be lying if she said this unhurried kiss wasn't turning her legs into mush.

Either that, or the after-effects of her jog had suddenly decided to kick in.

She felt Chloe's moan reverberate in her own chest, and something in her mind clicked at the feeling. Something changed, and she was still sober enough to recognise it. Beca leaned back and heard Chloe protest against the loss of lips against her own. Chloe's hands flexed on her shoulders.

"Why would you—" Chloe started, but Beca's eyes had taken on a glint.

"Why don't you," Beca said, pressing a kiss against the hollow of Chloe's neck, "sit," and hands slid to her waist, "down." As the word left her mouth, Beca's fingers dug into supple skin and she pushed Chloe up onto the counter.

Chloe knew to comply. "Whatever you w—holy shi—" She pressed a fist into her mouth to muffle her surprise as Beca drove Chloe's skirt up to the waist and her sensitive skin came into contact with rough tiles.

Beca hummed. "Decided to go commando today, did we."

She didn't waste a second and lowered her head, pushing Chloe's knees to the sides with her hands.

"God, Beca." Chloe tried to find a focus point on the ceiling.

Blasted thing was white and pristine as "F-fuck". She drew out the syllable long and hard.

"Just Beca's fine, and I will."

Long fingers skimmed up the smooth surface of skin and stopped just inches away from Chloe's inner thighs. Beca's breath was already coming out in hurried gasps when Chloe's heady scent assaulted her senses, even when she was the one doing all the touching instead of the other way around. She felt hands gripping her head in anticipation of what—_or rather who_, she smirked—would come next, and she decided not to let Chloe wait any longer.

Letting her breath fan out over the copper curls, she brushed three fingers through them, causing a whimper overhead. To avoid her muscles being even more sore tomorrow, Beca lowered herself to her knees, straightened her shoulders, and deftly pushed two fingers into Chloe's heat, which had already become moist with need.

"B-becaaah." Chloe drew out her name as if she wanted the taste of it to linger, and Beca felt the strong leg muscles on either side of her face spasm as she drew her fingers out and pushed them straight back in, reaching further, increasing pressure.

Chloe hooked her knees over Beca's shoulders and let her head fall back. She had long forsaken her quest to find any focus point anywhere, and decided to just let herself drown in Beca's ministrations. And Beca hadn't even done all that much yet. When _had_ she become sensitive, exactly?

Beca leisurely flicked out her tongue across Chloe's small bundle of nerves as she upped the speed of her fingers. One of Chloe's hands fell away from her head, presumably to be planted on the counter for weight support, while the other started grappling her face.

Did she want her to stop? What—

"Up. Up, Beca. Come on, I need… oh… I need… to kiss you."

Granted, not a bad suggestion.

Beca hauled herself up with one hand, all the while keeping the fingers of her other locked inside Chloe, never once letting the rhythm falter. Chloe whimpered at the loss of Beca's warm lips and tongue, but they were swiftly replaced with the pressure of her thumb, rubbing Chloe mercifully into an almost-climax.

She was gasping now, pulling Beca's head towards her own and claiming her lips in a fervent kiss. She wanted to return the sensory favour, but knew she couldn't. Not now. Not yet. Though frankly, she didn't know a whole lot anymore at this point.

Beca tore her mouth away, and instead pushed her forehead against Chloe's. She wanted to watch her as she reached her high and would continue to dwindle into the slow post-coital descent.

She locked her eyes with Chloe's, and moving her thumb round one last time, she simultaneously pushed her fingers and thumb hard into their respective destinations.

Beca watched Chloe's eyes glaze over as she tightened around her fingers and pressed their foreheads harder against each other. A low guttural moan travelled through both their bodies as Chloe rolled her hips forward one last time, riding out her climax, and gripped Beca's shoulder for support.

"Beca," she gasped. "I don't know… what's gotten into you lately, but…" Beca took pleasure in noting Chloe had difficulty speaking, "I'm sure as hell enjoying it."

"Tell that to Leo Peter—"

"Pedro," Chloe interjected half-heartedly.

"Whatever. I'm sure it would please Aubrey." After a moment, she added, "In more ways than one."

Chloe chuckled and shifted around a bit, which made Beca realise where her hand still lingered. She pulled it back, which elicited another sensual moan, though this time it rang more of blissful leisureliness than of "ravage me a second round".

A corner of Beca's mouth turned up in a smile as she walked over to the sink to wash her hands. Normally, she wouldn't mind so much to lick the Chloe leftovers from her fingers, but they really did need to start unpacking.

Business time had already postponed their settling in properly for four nights in a row now. And judging from the persuasive throb in her own panties, Beca figured they would well be at it all night again if she didn't stop them now.

Remembering to start the dishwasher, Beca pressed the necessary buttons and with a quick glance at Chloe, whose eyes were following her as she made her way around the kitchen, walked to the sofa to contemplate where to start first.

"Time to roll up our sleeves, don't you think?" she said. She heard Chloe murmur a consent from somewhere behind her.

On the right was all the fragile stuff like vases and whatnot, so they'd had to wait for a bit. In front of her was something that looked like a DIY bookcase that Chloe's parents had donated, and behind that a dozen or so boxes filled with the books that would grace its shelves.

And on the left—oh, on the left was her equipment. Beca longed to get her hands on it and start doing what she did best. Make music.

From something other than Chloe's mouth, that was.

She frowned as she heard the soft plop of the freezer compartment closing. Beca opened her mouth to ask Chloe a "what are you doing?"

But before she could actually finish the question or turn around to face her partner, an arm snuck around her waist and she was roughly pressed up against the green couch. She spluttered. "Chloe! What are you—_oh_."

All thoughts left her brain as she felt an ice-cold hand travel underneath her pants and panties, between her legs, ending its journey promptly cupped over her most private parts.

Beca yelped in surprise as the cold seeped into her, but felt herself becoming strangely aroused as well. She could feel Chloe pressed up against her backside, her breath warming her neck and cheek.

"Didn't think you'd get away with that, did you," Chloe hummed against her neck. Beca shook her head no as Chloe's tongue followed her words and sought out her pulse point. She had to twist her head to give the other woman better access, and as she did, Chloe almost latched onto it, making Beca shudder and grunt her name.

Chloe's hand, meanwhile, had started rubbing even more cold into Beca, now slipping in what seemed to be—_oh god_, Beca realised. _That's why I heard the freezer door close_. The temperature of Chloe's fingers was bordering on lethal as they entered Beca, and she let her eyes roll to the back of her head, her body slumping against the sofa, the rough cover slightly scraping her arms and palms as she moved across it.

She felt Chloe's other hand, particularly less cold, slither across the naked skin of her belly, which was still sticky with sweat, until it palmed her breast through the tight material of her sports bra. Despite its constricting nature, the bra left nothing to Chloe's imagination—or her own, for that matter—for which Beca was now thankful, as the woman did marvellous things to her breast.

She was still pressing open mouthed kisses to her neck too.

Oh man, this was going to—

Chloe's hand suddenly disappeared from her panties—_suck in a breath_—and travelled round to palm her from the back—_release it nice and easy_—now adding an unrelenting pressure to her most sensitive point with her fingers, pushing her down into a final drawn-out descent.

"Oh, God, Chloe, don't stop, please," she brought out in gasps, seeing her hands grapple the furniture in front of her for any kind of support. She was leaning into Chloe's hands, one of which was still doing wonderful, _wonderful_ things to her breast, and she could feel a pleasant warmth spread throughout her abdomen, her hips buckling in the need to increase it.

Chloe was whispering things into her ear, lapping at it with her tongue, but Beca couldn't make out the words. Instead, she tried to focus on how Chloe was pressed against her.

Hands and fingers moved relentlessly, breaths came out in quick gasps, until Beca jerked in her movement.

Chloe tightened the grip of both her hands and pressed firmly forward, while Beca curled inward, relishing in the feel of the ever-impending release when she was near Chloe.

Sighing long and hard, Beca let herself fall onto the sofa, and pulled Chloe along with her, wrapping her arms around her protectively and nuzzling her neck.

Beca hummed contentedly. "I didn't know what I did to deserve that, but this sofa is definitely inaugurated, signed, sealed, christened, whatever you want to call it."

She felt Chloe grin against her hair. "Maybe if you'd take into account the wonderful things you've done to me the past few days, you'd know better. I certainly have loads to _casually_ mention to Aubrey tomorrow." Chloe wriggled a bit to settle more comfortable against Beca and slid her arms around her waist, splaying one hand across the plains of her back underneath her t-shirt.

"Well," Beca smirked, "you can tell her," _because, what the hell_, she thought, "as long as you promise to act out the inauguration speech."

"Oh, you bet I will."

**.: fin :.**


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